The foam is not very impressive in this picture, probably because the bottle had been transported in my backpack all day and opened a couple of times. It was still fizzy though!
The bottle conditioning worked, and my chicha was fizzy as all get-out. For the longest time, I could NOT get over the fact that I essentially made a carbonated, alcoholic beverage AT HOME. It is like shockingly easy.
Our presentation was okay. My partner started freaking out an hour beforehand, and I had to calm him down a lot. When it was all over he thanked me profusely. It wasn’t the greatest presentation, and we flubbed a couple of details, but we didn’t humiliate ourselves either.
I was a little…annoyed? Hurt? Offended? Whatever? When one of my classmates, a very beautiful, upper-class, Ralph Lauren type, told me that the idea of my chicha “scared” her. Presumably because it had fermented on my counter for three days. As I stood there in my worn-out lab coat that has done duty not only in three chemistry labs, but countless early mornings in a hospital kitchen; my laundry-day, last-resort sweater, extremely aware of being one of maybe three fat nutrition students; and also aware that this particular girl happened to walk by my lovely but run-down apartment building as I entered it a few days ago, aware that she saw where I lived, and what kind of neighbourhood it is…well, I felt a little sad and defeated, standing there like that.
Something about it triggered all kinds of weird sensitivity in me because I am poor and live in a very poor neighbourhood. I don’t pretend to be poor on the same scale as most of my neighbours, because my situation is largely by choice, and I have family to help if ever things should get desperate, but still. Something about the disparity between our economic classes and social standings and the fact that she would use that word to critique something I was extremely proud of doing — it hurt my feelings. As I said earlier, whatever. I will get over it. I’ve certainly said enough snotty, unintentionally mean-spirited things in my time.
I drank the bottle of chicha when I got home, and it was like a very fruity, no-hops version of Blanche de Chambly. And it had enough alcohol in it to make my shoulders tingly. My professor said it was the first time a student had made beer for this class, but I couldn’t help it. I was categorically uninterested in the actual food.
Filed under: food, school |
Okay, you’d think beer would get rave reviews in a college class!
I used to drive an old Nissan that thanks to careless driving, had more than a few dents and dings, including one where I hit my friend’s tree while backing out of her long, narrow driveway. The car was paid off, which is why I continued to drive it, but I was still ashamed to let anyone on stories see me driving it. Maybe it was because I grew up poor and I’ve worked so hard NOT to be poor as an adult. I dunno. But I was actually relieved when my mechanic cousin declared it a rolling death trap. I saved up for a few months and purchased a used, but newer and much nicer car that I now love.
Keep in mind: You don’t know where she lives. She could live in some dump, or she could be living with mommy and daddy. Either way, you should be proud of what you have accomplished and WILL accomplish.
i completely know how you feel. i went to a university seemingly entirely populated with that ralph lauren type. i do think i’m pretty, but in an unruly way, and i always felt like an unkempt, eccentric, batty old lady next to everyone else.
however, i know at least one of my friends thinks i’m like the epitome of shit-together grace, so i have no doubt that there’s also probably plenty of people out there looking at you and thinking the same. and i don’t think i’m going very far out on a limb when i say that probably everyone in your class was wishing he or she had come up with such a brilliant presentation subject.
Of course chicha scared her. It’s beer, and beer is BAD.
It’s very scary that anyone could take a good food, like Quinoa, and make it into a bad beverage. I mean, if those labels aren’t going to mean anything anymore then her whole world could fall apart.
Damn straight its scary.
(Does she pay extra for artisan sourdough bread? Or think about where that name came from?)
I wasn’t there, so I can’t hear her tone or see her body language; but I often hear something described as “scary” when it’s particularly clever (think scary brilliant) or just overwhelming. My husband made me a four layer chocolate cake with cherries and chocolate icing for my birthday, and my daughter described it as scary, for instance. I also made a homegrown sourdough starter, and that was scary too–all bubbly and mysterious, you know?
Anyway, I think it was a fascinating idea for a presentation.
I think you are awesome for being in the world, making things, changing things.
(Being punk-rock comes in many forms.) Just the fact that the girl couldn’t help herself and had to comment shows you’re affecting the world around you. Many times people just want something to say. If that’s the best that she could come up with, then so be it. It could be that you seem approachable, have displayed brilliance and bravery by doing your thing. It’s hard not to be affected by what people say, especially people who never interact with us. The shock itself can make it hard to understand what’s going on. One thing I’m thinking is that this girl has only entered your consciousness as one-of-many, and that she had to contact you in order to affect you. I’m guessing that you are going to continue to bring the awesome, and that you will attract wildly divergent reactions, some well thought out, and some not so well formed (”it’s scary”). Chin up. Rock on.
I think mrs.millur’s put her finger on it.
It sounds like a brilliant presentation! Congrats on getting it done. And, can I have the recipe?
You’re right, Rachel — I completely jumped to a conclusion about her life and her intentions with the comment. But I am still extremely happy to find out I can make real, fizzy beer at home! I also just like knowing how things are made, things that normally just appear magically in the store in a box. The fact that the process I did at home is basically replicated, on a larger scale, in a brewery, makes me feel so bad-ass. It makes me feel a touch more independent, in a way, like: if the apocalypse hit tomorrow, I could still have beer. It is a source of great comfort to me in uncertain times :)
hotsauce: I feel like the epitome of unkempt most of the time, and have for most of my life. I know that most other people don’t see me that way, but I have a real struggle with certain aspects of grooming and dressing, because I feel like it’s form of bondage to spend that much time/money/effort on one’s appearance. But when I don’t, I feel terribly self-conscious about it in public! I hope everyone liked the presentation, anyway, even though it was kind of half-arsed in some aspects (my partner and I were assigned to each other, so we didn’t have like a really great rapport on the project. He basically thought all my ideas were shit-fuck insane.)
Haha, Mrs. Millur, maybe! I hadn’t thought of that. But yeah, definitely not a lot of nutrition students go around talking about beer being a good thing, or even admitting they drink it. Which, come ON, they’re university students. IN CANADA. And that’s also what I was thinking about the fermentation process itself: I wanted to say, are you aware that the same thing happens in a brewery? And in BREAD? It’s not SCARY, for fuck’s sake!
Piffle — I would love to make sourdough starter, now that you mention it! But yes, you’re right, scary can definitely be a compliment. Like THAT IS A SCARILY GENIUS IDEA!
Hahhaha, videoxy! That is a nice interpretation. Thank you. I’ll go with it :)
Dee - I’ll definitely give you the recipe, though I basically made it up! Do you know anyplace we can buy hops, so we can make REAL beer? Because we should. I got the barley and quinoa at the hippie shop on P. & C., but I sort of doubt they sell hops. How are hops sold, anyway? ARE they sold in stores? I don’t know, but I figured you might!
I’ll find hops. I think we need to have a beer making party!
“I was a little…annoyed? Hurt? Offended? Whatever? When one of my classmates, a very beautiful, upper-class, Ralph Lauren type, told me that the idea of my chicha “scared” her. Presumably because it had fermented on my counter for three days. As I stood there in my worn-out lab coat that has done duty not only in three chemistry labs, but countless early mornings in a hospital kitchen; my laundry-day, last-resort sweater, extremely aware of being one of maybe three fat nutrition students; and also aware that this particular girl happened to walk by my lovely but run-down apartment building as I entered it a few days ago, aware that she saw where I lived, and what kind of neighbourhood it is…well, I felt a little sad and defeated, standing there like that.”
Fuck it. You have some of the most beautiful prose and insight I’ve read in some time.
That’s totally awesome. :) It sounds like you ended up having a good time with something that you weren’t thrilled to be researching to begin with, which is always a good thing.
I just wanted to offer one more bit of perspective on the girls comment. I can think of three households (other than my own) where I would be willing to drink something that had been fermenting at room temperature for three days. It’s got nothing to do with how clean I think my other friends houses are, or anything like that, it’s that my grandfather was a microbiologist, so I’ve been raised with a pretty large amount of paranoia about bacteria. The three people I would trust to have boiled or autoclaved the jar the liquid was fermenting in are my father, my grandfather, and my friend’s dad who’s also a microbiologist. Now, I would never in a million years be so tactless as to say out loud that I thought it was “scary”, but at the same time, unless you were quite detailed about the bacteria precautions you took (which you may have been, in which case ignore this) I also wouldn’t be drinking it. So yes, she was rude, but it’s possible that it’s not because of any judgment she’s making about you as a person.
So yes, long answer short, it’s either nothing really reflecting on you or her opinion of you, or she’s a shallow twit who you shouldn’t care about anyway.
And awesome job on making something cool!